Gemotions

The cafe buzzed, a symphony of chatter and clinking cutlery. Elias, hunched over his lukewarm coffee, felt the familiar tremor in his chest. A guitarist took the tiny stage. A few chords, a hesitant vocal, and then the opening bars of “Fallen Leaves” filled the air. Elias’s stomach lurched. He gripped the chipped ceramic mug so tightly his knuckles whitened.

He hadn't written a new song in months. Every attempt felt futile, a pale imitation of his past successes. This cover, this effortless rendition, it felt like someone else was walking on ground he used to tread, and doing it with a confidence he no longer possessed.

He thought of the recording session, the rush of inspiration that had birthed the tune. Now, the song was being stripped bare, re-dressed in someone else's style. He felt a cold dread crawl up his spine, a sensation of helplessness he fought to keep hidden. He almost wished he could disappear, evaporate into the cafe’s background noise.